


Atrium

by merelyans



Series: Vessel Vampires [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Character Turned Into Vampire, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Vampire Bites, Vampire Politics, Vampire Turning, Vampires, some light prejudice against vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyans/pseuds/merelyans
Summary: Sequel to Tiny Vessels.Bokuto's never wanted anything more than to spend eternity with his husband.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Vessel Vampires [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960726
Comments: 21
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is indeed the start of a sequel, so if you're here for the first time, please go back and read the first part called Tiny Vessels! And if you're here from Tiny Vessels, thank you so much for your support of the series.

_Bokuto didn’t want to take a higher level history class, but he wanted to graduate college, and it was a requirement. Some sacrifices were just worth making, and with all the English classes he’s planning on taking in the later years of his college career, it might be good to get all other topics out of the way early on._

_He, of course, arrives late, the only seats being in the back row, five minutes into the lecture. He takes the first open seat, wondering if anyone had seen him sneak in._

_As soon as he sits down, the man next to him tenses up, inching away._

_It makes Bokuto frown. He may have just come from the gym, his workout running longer than expected without him having time to thoroughly shower, but it’s not like he smelled terrible. He starts getting out his materials, looking around at the syllabi he’s missed being handed out._

_His heart spikes a bit, knowing he’d either have to admit to the class he came in late to get another one, or he’d have to just suck it up and deal without one._

_The man next to him softly taps the desk, sliding a syllabus across the table from the stack sitting next to him. Bokuto offers a small smile, a smaller nod, and gratefully scans over the paper. Professor Yamiji Takeyuki, TAs Akaashi Keiji and Washio Tatsuki, an outline of the semester, due dates listed in bold._

_“Thank you,” He whispers to the man sitting next to him, the man nodding silently, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “That’s really nice of you.”_

_It isn’t until after class when the man gathers the remaining syllabi and carries them up to the professor, opting not to leave like the rest of class, that Bokuto realizes he’s one of the TAs. He smiles a bit to himself, leaving the room to hurry off to his next class so that he doesn’t find himself late to anything else on the first day._

_He could get used to a history class with such a pretty TA, but with Bokuto’s luck, he’s probably either straight, taken, or a murderer. But in that moment, he can’t bring himself to care._

-

Bokuto’s hands are shaking, and his students automatically know something is up.

Nothing, and when they say nothing, they really do mean _nothing_ makes their teacher nervous. They’ve seen him run screaming down the halls during the sports festival, they’ve seen him stand on desks to make teaching more “immersive” ever since he saw an American movie about an English teacher at a boarding school (in which they studied O Captain, My Captain until their brains were mush), and finally, what many believed to be a rumor, with few students swearing up and down they saw it with their own two eyes, he had once jumped out of the window into a tree because his husband was picking him up from school.

In theory, nothing could cause this man fear.

Which is why it made his shaky stance and wavering good morning all the more worrying.

“Uh, hello class, I hope you’re all feeling well this morning.” He frowns a bit, scanning over his homeroom class. “I’m doing… well.”

He turns around and starts to write something on the board, but stops after a few letters, biting his lip. He turns back around and heavily sighs.

“Okay, everyone, I need your attention,” He says as if he isn’t already leading a class. “I’m sure that I only have to make this announcement once because it’ll spread by the time the first break is out, so I’ll just get it over with.”

He puts the cap back on the marker, his hair visibly drooping with his mood as he struggles to close it. It clicks after a few seconds, Bokuto’s face heating up more and more.

“So, a little while ago I asked for your opinions on vampires. I would like to… revive that conversation. No pun intended.” 

He looks around the class, the silence begging him to move on.

“Okay, so, you all know that I’m married,” That gets him to smile and calm down a little. “Very happily. Been with him since I was just nineteen. And… you know all about him, Akaashi. Keiji, that’s what I call him, when we’re alone.”

He gets increasingly more off track, his face heating up. No one stops his tangent, not wanting the first period to actually start. This would probably just result in another one of his stories.

“Anyways, you’ve heard all the stories, the proposal story with my foot stuck in the bridge, the time we went house shopping and I got locked in the basement, how proud he was when I graduated school and became a teacher.”

He smiles fondly, his anxiety melting away.

“Akaashi is very special to me, and… I want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

A few people make an “awe” sound, but the sour look on his face pulls everyone in. He takes in a sharp, but deep, breath.

“Unfortunately, my lifespan is a little… limited… compared to his.”

A few students already know. A few catch on the minute the words leave his lips. A few are still blissfully ignorant.

He scratches his neck, and the ones that know look on in shock, shock that they’ve never noticed the small white scars that dot his neck and arms. One of them looks somewhat fresher than the others, and it’s enough to make the air go cold.

“It’s June right now, one-ish months away from summer break.” He changes the subject, providing context. “Over break, I may be going through a bit of a change…” He looks at the confused faces around the room, and he bites his lip.

He should stop beating around the bush. He wants to say it, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he should get Konoha to say it, but then again, no, they need to hear it from him. Their teacher. The person they trust. He closes his eyes for a second and speaks from the heart.

“The minute finals are over, I’ll be asking Akaashi to change me… into a vampire, like him. And, and, and,” He starts speeding up when he reads the shock of the room. “I’ll be like your teacher Konoha! He’s not scary at all, is he? No, and… and I’ll be a vampire. I’m taking lots of precautions, of course, and I will not be returning unless I pass various tests set by my superiors, in every sense, that prove I’m able to teach again.”

They all know what he really means. Tests to make sure he isn’t going to kill them.

Bokuto leans on his desk, his heart pounding against his chest, like it was about to burst out like an alien and just start taking off down the hallway.

“The school board knows, the other teachers know… I have a clan, since I’m actually a marked human, have been for four years,” He pulls his collar down to reveal the three dots that showed everyone that he belonged to Akaashi. “And I’ve been talking to the local pureblood for the area I live in, as well as the pureblood that oversees this area. The school’s kind of on the border, so it’s just a small extension for my pureblood’s territory. Plus the pureblood for this territory scares me. His name is Aone and he just likes to point at marked humans…”

He catches himself rambling and clears his throat.

“Anyways. Um, I’ll be talking to Konoha-sensei a lot about how to be a vampire teacher, as well as Akaashi since he’s also a vampire teacher, and I can promise you all that if at any point I feel like it’s not safe, I will immediately leave the premises. Konoha-sensei has the same orders, and he hasn’t had to do it yet, so I think it might be a good sign. So, yes, after break, I’ll be a vampire, and I think that’s enough of wasting your class time for the day.”

He uncaps the marker again, turning around.

“Okay, so, who wants to tell me about what Fitzgerald meant when he mentions the green light?”

The entire class stares, unable to react to the influx of information.

Sure, it was shocking, but not entirely surprising. Stories of Akaashi suddenly made sense. It explained why the man with the guitar was screaming when Akaashi had cried during their proposal, it explains why Bokuto would cut stories off early if they started crossing into vampiric territory, why he froze up when people started talking about the news.

His writing is shaky today. Shakier than ever. 

But, strangely, his anxiety over the idea of being turned put them at ease, as if it affirmed he would try his best not to royally screw up.

-

Akaashi loves his job. It’s his dream, after all, to finally be a history professor of modern history, his master’s thesis having been on the course of world history since the British Industrial Revolution, especially focusing on gender and sexuality.

It was boring, (as Bokuto called it, 19th century Irish poetry in hand), and he loved it.

What he did not love, however, was how a few of his students, the ones with keen eyes and harsh hearts, had already pinned him for what he truly was. It isn’t even two months into the semester, and people already get up to leave in protest when it’s his turn to lead the class.

Washio, who had taken over as his co-professor until the department let them run their own classes, said not to pay any mind to them, as it was their grades that they were sacrificing in their pursuit of bigotry. 

It made Akaashi feel better, especially when it came time to grade assignments.

“Alright, as this topic crosses into black feminism during the white colonization of Africa, I will be taking over the class for a few days, and then let Washio get back to being your main lecturer until we reach more modern history.”

Akaashi starts his lecture, his hand gripping a microwaved travel mug full of bagged blood. It’s early, too early, and he needs it like a human needed their morning coffee. He feels like Suga sometimes, Suga always making a cup of coffee on his breaks to help him stay awake through the night.

He’s even got Oikawa hooked on it, even though it’s more of a cup of sweet cream with barely a splash of coffee. He’s even seen Suga pour out a sip of his own coffee into another mug, filling the rest of the mug with milk and sugar before bringing it over to Oikawa, who was happily begging him to come snuggle on the couch.

But this is just blood, microwaved in the staff room, only the outside part of the mug really heating up, but Akaashi didn't care. Well, he did, but he was great at pretending he didn’t. After all, it made Bokuto’s hot, buttery blood all the more delicious.

He takes a sip of his drink between pauses in his lecture, not hiding the red that coats his teeth as he licks his lips. It’s not like he’s actively withholding the truth about himself, but he doesn’t try to flaunt it in anyone’s faces.

He’s perfectly content with the way things are, drinking lukewarm blood at 8:30 in the morning in front of a hundred or so students.

He sets the mug down and starts flipping through worksheets to pass out, the format hastily made, since he and Bokuto had been working on it almost all night. He had told Bokuto to go to bed, but Bokuto was more than determined to help him create his worksheets.

He hands them to the nearest person and watches them go around as he sits down, waiting for people to form groups to finish them. He looks at Washio, who is sitting with his hands propped up on his elbows, looking at Akaashi’s mug.

“Husband get that put together for you?”

Akaashi suppresses a smile, shaking his head.

“I tried asking once, but it freaked him out.”

Washio leans back in his chair, contently crossing his arms over his chest, which Akaashi has learned to mean he’s enjoying the conversation.

Other than Bokuto, Washio is one of the few humans who knew Akaashi was a vampire before he had to confess as part of a new law that enforced vampires in certain fields of work needing to let their superiors know of their status. 

It was a rather awkward coming out, as he had caught Akaashi feeding in their shared office after hours. It was lucky that Akaashi hated the idea of public sex, even with the promise that no one other than Washio and Akaashi ever enters the office, and no one would ever know.

Feeding was something already too intimate to walk in on at the wrong time, and he can’t help but still be embarrassed he had knocked on Oikawa’s door when he and Suga had just started using the neck as a source.

Rumor is, Oikawa’s finally gotten over his demotion of having to feed from Suga’s wrist again, Suga finally trusting him enough to go within two feet of his neck again.

“I can see why.” Washio nods, shuddering at the thought.

“Oh come on, it’s not that weird.” Akaashi takes another sip, the blood starting to taste old, not that good if it’s been sitting out. He scrunches his face up, and decides he’s had enough for the morning. “Not that good after an hour, though. Especially when you heat it up.”

His tongue darts out, a small strip of his inner lip stained crimson, his tongue looking like he had just eaten cherry candy.

Honestly, he’s surprised that no one’s noticed, and if they have, they haven’t said anything. His phone buzzes, and he quickly pulls it out, hoping he isn’t being a bad influence for the students.

“Speaking of husbands.” He mutters, reading Bokuto’s message.

_”I told them. They seem to be taking it well. I’m the talk of the grade! Take that pregnant soccer coach! :D :D :D”_

He smiles a bit, scoffing at how much of a child his husband can be. He sends a quick reply.

_”Glad to hear your intended vampirism outweighs the miracle of childbirth.”_

_”When you think about it, we’re both being gifted life.”_

_”You’re such a dork.”_

_”I’m you're dork._

He gets another message. 

_”your”_

_”don’t tell my students I did that I’m supposed to be perfect”_

Akaashi happily rolls his eyes and pushes his glasses up on his face, collecting the first group’s worksheets as they turn them in and leave. 

“Good news?”

“I guess you could say that.” Akaashi absent-mindedly twirls his finger around the rim of the mug. “Bokuto and I decided it was time to… you know, make some big changes in our relationship.” He nervously looks around the room.

“That’s great!” His lips twitch into a smile.

Despite most of the class nicknaming him things along the lines of “brick wall” when it came to emotions, Akaashi knew better than anyone that Washio could be the most caring and genuine person out there. 

Like if a german shepherd was a person.

“He’s more excited than I am. I’ve never really…” He starts turning more and more reclusive. “I’m nervous to actually do it. He’s the only person I’ve ever been with in my new life. Hell, I don't think I’ve even bitten anyone else after I met him.”

“What are you going to do for food, then, after he turns?”

Akaashi’s fingertips go cold as he reaches out for more groups to turn in their worksheets. His mind is blank.

“I… haven’t actually thought about that.” He mumbles, scratching his neck sheepishly. “I’m in a pretty big clan that has legitimate feeding ground rights, so I guess we could get by until we find a better alternative.”

Washio scratches his chin, nodding.

“Sounds like a plan to me. When?”

“When his students are on summer break. He’s doing a lot of work beforehand so that he doesn’t have to worry about working over break, and our pureblood and his school board are meeting sometime next week to come up with a list of tasks he has to pass in order to be allowed to teach again, so I’ll be busy training him.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi half-snorts. “Before, usually you’d just fake your death or disappear off the face of the earth until you were ready to rejoin society.”

He smiles, but it’s sad, distant. His mind flickers back to how he had been kicked out of his house, and was abandoned by his maker.

It did, however, make him sure of one thing; he would never abandon Bokuto, and be a good maker. Be good to his sire. Be the best maker and husband for all of eternity, since that’s what they had.

It didn’t feel real, since Akaashi’s only twenty-seven, Bokuto being twenty-four. Eternity isn’t even a concept yet. Hell, Akaashi hasn’t even processed that he’s still stuck in the body of his twenty-three year old self.

It’ll probably hit him when he’s officially (or not so officially) middle aged.

Probably.

“It’ll be good, for both of us.”

“I think so too,” Washio slaps a friendly pat on his back. “You’ve been hopelessly in love with him ever since we first started out teaching here. I’m glad you’ve found your person to spend the rest of eternity with.”

Akaashi sucks in a deep breath, but it isn’t bad, it isn’t sad, or concerned, or worried. Just a breath of life, the same breath he’ll suck out of Bokuto’s lungs in a month, the same breath he’ll give back to him.

He can’t help but be excited.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for non-explicit nsfw at the beginning

_”Akaashi?”_

_Bokuto feels his boyfriend tense in his arms, nuzzling against his shoulder. Akaashi’s body is cold, just like it always is, and his breathing is staggered._

_It seems so normal, Akaashi, panting, half-ripping his clothes off, kissing his neck. It’s not the first time he’s done this, as they’ve been on four dates ever since the semester ended, and the last one ended in exactly the same way._

_But this time there’s something different, and probably not the kind of different that the dull ache in his lower abdomen is craving._

_Akaashi eagerly pushes Bokuto down on the bed, Bokuto’s back sinking into the mattress. His heart would be racing in a much different way if not for Akaashi’s shoulders shaking above him, his grip firmer than ever before._

_Something is very, very wrong._

_Akaashi’s tongue swipes out across his skin, Bokuto’s arms held in place at the shoulder by Akaashi’s palms, which are sweaty and hot. He’s straddling him, his legs intertwined with Bokuto’s own, locking him in place. His tongue darts out again, and laps at Bokuto’s collarbone to the base of his ear._

_He shudders, but doesn’t stop._

_“‘Kaashi,” Bokuto groans, exposing his neck ever so slightly more. “We don’t have to do this if you’re scared. I’m fine with where we are right now.”_

_Akaashi pulls away, the wet strip of saliva against his skin making Bokuto shiver without hot pants collecting against him. He takes a shaky breath, hungrily looking down at Bokuto, almost like he’s hovering above him._

_“Stay still.” Akaashi orders, his words slurred, like he’s speaking around a mouthpiece._

_Bokuto sees them._

_They were still what he might call gemstones, but his eyes were no longer emeralds, instead shining as deep rubies. Bokuto’s breath hitches, and Akaashi exhales, his eyes never wavering from where he’s been licking. His fingertips dig into Bokuto’s shoulder, but the skin doesn’t break, leaving behind maroon crescent moons._

_Bokuto swallows thickly, and Akaashi moves back to his neck, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over. A cold hand reaches up and pushes Bokuto’s chin to the side, Akaashi breathing in deeply, almost mewling with pure want at the scent._

_Was this really his boyfriend? Was this really Akaashi on him? He can’t tell, but the gentle hesitation among his want, his sheer greed, is familiar. Behind those red eyes is the man he loves, and the thought of telling Akaashi he loves him is scarier than whatever’s happening right now._

_All he knows is that he’s never trusted anyone more._

_Bokuto puts his arm around Akaashi’s bare figure, and rubs the pads of his thumbs into the small of his back, feeling the pressure on his shoulder increase. Akaashi places his lips against Bokuto’s flesh, and Bokuto shivers at the feeling, how soft the skin is, how much he’s panting in his ear. The rapid beat of his own heart against Akaashi’s._

_He tilts his head to the side of his own free will._

_“Don’t worry,” Bokuto breathes, feeling two points resting against his skin. “Go ahead, ‘Kaashi, take what you need.”_

_Akaashi pulls away, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open, fangs on full display. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and releases Bokuto from his grasp, his hands flying up to cover his mouth. He frantically looks for the clothes that are scattered across the floor of Bokuto’s bedroom, shaking his head, his eyes straining._

_“I’m so sorry...” He repeats over and over again, the quiver in his voice sending goosebumps up Bokuto’s arms._

_“Akaashi…” Bokuto whines, sitting up. “Where are you going?”_

_“Obviously I triggered my seduction or something,” Akaashi’s voice is quick and quiet, somewhat poisonous. He struggles to put his pants on, getting increasingly frustrated when he sees that they’re backwards. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t even know how to-”_

_Bokuto crawls across the bed, getting dangerously close to Akaashi. Akaashi wants to flinch away, but he can’t. Not with the residual tingle on his lips from having almost found good prey._

_“Look, I don’t know what seduction is, or even what just happened. But what I do know is that whatever I feel right now? It’s not different from what I feel when you’re… not around.” He sits on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, eyes curiously exploring Akaashi’s features. “So, this is you? The real you?”_

_Akaashi shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes. It’s the last thing he wants, for Bokuto to see blood trickling down his face._

_“Keiji.” Bokuto softly begins, Akaashi turning to face him, red eyes widened._

_It’s the first time he’s used his first name._

_“I’m not going anywhere.”_

_Akaashi’s hands go numb, and he can’t button his pants._

_“You don’t think I’m disgusting?” He whispers around his fangs, mouth parted in disbelief. “I just tried to bite you. I could have killed you! You don’t think I’m terrifying?”_

_Bokuto shakes his head, holding his hand out with the widest grin Akaashi’s ever seen him give._

_“I think you’re downright gorgeous.”_

-

“So, you’ve been here long enough to know what things are and where they go. You practically work here already,” Iwaizumi offers Bokuto something to drink, which he declines. “You’d get bar trained by Akaashi, of course,” Bokuto happily squeezes Akaashi’s hand. “And, with your strength, I’m sure you’d make a better bouncer than Ennoshita. I’ll talk to Suga and see which positions need to be filled more than others.”

“What about a host?” Akaashi swallows.

Iwaizumi leans over the counter, stirring his coffee. He shrugs, but it’s a bit tense.

“I haven’t seen that many hosts other than Yamaguchi and Nishinoya anymore. Sometimes I’ll feed on the floor, but with Oikawa having Suga and Hinata having Kageyama, well, there’s not much feeding going on by the staff.”

Akaashi nods, thinking.

“I’ll have to find a new source to drink from, as well.”

Bokuto looks at him, almost offended.

“Kou, you’ll be a vampire, I can’t drink from you anymore,” He pats the top of his head. “But look at it this way, we get to go hunting together, so that’s romantic… in its own morbid way.”

“Hunting sounds like we're going to kill someone.” He pouts, and Akaashi scoffs.

“More like we’ll bring one or two people into the sectioned off areas of the basement and bite them with literally every other staff member and vampire breathing down our necks.”

“Oh.”

Bokuto looks down at his lap, the realization he could no longer provide for his husband weighing heavily on his shoulders. Akaashi runs his hand through the mess that is his hair, and smiles.

“I’ll be sure to get my fill before it happens.”

This makes Bokuto smile, pushing his head into Akaashi’s palm.

“You two are so adorably disgusting.” Iwaizumi grabs his coffee and raises it to his lips. “Won’t be long now, though, will it?”

Bokuto sucks in air between his teeth. 

“Two weeks.”

The steadiness in his voice is commanding.

“Has Kuroo told you about the list of tasks yet?”

“Nope.” Akaashi sighs, slight annoyance lacing his voice. “I’m sure it’ll just be control exercises, and I can bring him here to do my own tests.”

Iwaizumi nods.

“There’s so much more to being a vampire nowadays. Have you applied for a change in ID?”

“Applied in June.” Bokuto nods. “We just need to send proof of status change to get sent the physical copy.”

“It was so much easier when you just died, got up, and continued like nothing happened.” Iwaizumi mumbles. “When I died I just woke up in the back of a wagon that Oikawa had stolen, covered in blood and hay.”

“Simpler times.” Akaashi pokes fun.

“Much.” Iwaizumi curtly supplies.

“Have you talked to him about the true weight of turning?”

Akaashi bites his lip. Iwaizumi nods.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

And with that, they’re left alone in the living room. Akaashi grabs Bokuto’s hand, watching his thumb rub over his husband’s skin. 

“I know you’ve heard it before, in bits and pieces here and there, but I just want to run it over with you again,” He frowns, not wanting to meet Bokuto’s eyes. “You’re ready to face the consequences of potentially killing someone, right?”

His heart hangs heavy in his chest, like the air in his lungs has suddenly been replaced with mud. 

“I would just have to make my case to Kuroo, right?”

“Not those kinds of consequences, Kou.” Akaashi shakes his head. “Do you remember the night you found out what I was?”

“Yeah, you were pretty handsy and you put your pants on backwards.”

Akaashi suppresses a laugh. He could always leave it to Bokuto to make light of dire situations.

“I almost killed you that night.”

“But you didn’t.”

Akaashi slowly nods.

“Obviously,” He continues. “But it weighed on me, for years. Hell, I still get nightmares about what would have happened if I didn't pull away that night. For a split second, you were just prey to me. It didn't matter that we were dating, or that I loved you, you were just... prey.”

“You’re asking me if I’m ready to carry the weight of seeing others like that.” Bokuto surmises, and Akaashi gives a short nod. He sucks in a breath. “Honestly, no, but I don’t think anyone is ready for that. You were alone, still new, unable to access solid resources to help you through everything.” He runs his hand through Akaashi’s hair. “If I have you, I know I’ll be okay. Plus, the idea of Kuroo killing you if I fuck up is enough to scare me back to reality.”

“Then let’s make sure you don’t fuck up.”

Bokuto laughs, the sound reverberating through the air, a hearty rumble. He pulls Akaashi in close, Akaashi pressing his ear to Bokuto’s chest.

_Thumpthumpthumpthump._

“Then let’s make sure I don’t fuck up.”

-

“Konoha, I need help not fucking up.”

Konoha’s tea shoots out through his nose. He coughs, reaching for a napkin, quickly trying to dry his desk.

“What?” The word is almost a hiss caught in his throat. “What does that mean?”

“How are you able to be around humans all day? I mean, I know why you’re around me, since I’m off the table.”

Konoha suppresses a chuckle, pushing his tea towards the center of the table they’re eating at. Seems like ever since Bokuto told the other staff members and teachers his plans, Konoha’s the only teacher that dares speak to him.

“Years of practice.” He answers simply. “I’m turning thirty this year, celebrating four years of afterlife.”

“So you’re still pretty young.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely nowhere near some of the other vampires out there. Did you hear that one of the purebloods in the city is over five hundred years old? Crazy.”

“So, how do you do it?”

“My clan’s really big on regularly feeding.” He answers simply, his voice low like it’s a secret. “Most clans believe in feeding as needed in large amounts, but mine really pushes the idea of feeding a little bit every day.”

Bokuto nods, thinking about how Akaashi feeds from him about twice a week, with one or (god forbid, in Akaashi’s own words) two bloodbags between feedings. Suga offers himself to Oikawa three times a week, and last time he checked, Kageyama feeds Hinata once a week.

Which, to be honest, probably isn't healthy.

“How about when you start out?” Bokuto stabs his salad with his fork.

Konoha thinks.

“It’ll be hard to control,” He ultimately says. “There’s no real bloodlust, actually, there’s an urge to drink, yes, but not to kill. It’s not like you get so hungry that you start seeing red and reach for the first person you see. That is, once you get used to it. Right now, there’s about five liters of blood in your body, and that’s what you’re accustomed to. As a vampire, your body adjusts to whatever amount of blood you regularly keep in your body over time.”

Bokuto nods, and Konoha continues.

“Your body will call out for more blood until it starts getting used to having less and less blood to work with, and it’ll start using the oxygen more efficiently.”

Bokuto almost forgot the reason vampires even drink blood. They can’t make their own, and without taking blood from another, oxygen can’t do its thing and their bodies slowly waste away.

Vampires didn’t starve without blood, they suffocated.

“You can probably shock your body into needing less blood off the bat, but,” He clicks his tongue, a grimace spreading across his lips. “It’ll be hell. Probably pass out, trouble breathing, every cell in your will itch and scream for blood no matter what, so try not to make it harder on yourself.”

Bokuto’s stomach lurches, and he looks down at his salad. Suddenly, it looks wholly unappetizing.

“I can probably help out in school, if you ever have an emergency.” Konoha shrugs. “I can get extra blood bags if your clan can’t supply them.”

“You’d do that?” 

“We’re almost kin, aren’t we?”

A small smile, gleaming red eyes.

Bokuto returns the gesture.

“Seven days.”

He looks down at his hands, at the plump blue veins under his skin. He rubs his thumb over it, feeling his own pulse. It’s steady, a little fast, but the thought no longer scares him. In just seven mortal days, he’ll be celebrating eternity with the man he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on making this a much shorter fic! I was going to meander a bit but realized chapters would get repetitive so I decided against it. Updates might be a little sporadic, as I'm planning an Suga themed horror fic


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited chapter heheh

_Akaashi pets Bokuto’s hair, absentmindedly running his hand through the stiff peaks, his eyes never leaving the tv screen. Bokuto shifts in his lap, pulling the blanket more over himself._

_“Hey, Koutarou?” Akaashi’s voice is distant, timid._

_He doesn’t even blink, focused on the movie._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Is it okay if I mark you?”_

_Bokuto sits up a little, Akaashi still scratching his scalp._

_“Right now?”_

_“If you want.”_

_He looks down at his boyfriend, his eyes shrouded in an emotion Bokuto can't quite place._

_“How do you-”_

_“You’d drink my blood. Just a little.”_

_“What does it do?” Bokuto scrunches up his face._

_“Makes you mine. No other vampire can touch you. Someone in my new clan says it’ll be a good idea, since we’re making arrangements for you to start feeding me.”_

_Bokuto looks back at the tv screen, then up at his boyfriend._

_“Will it make me any less of a human?”_

_Akaashi’s hand goes still._

_“No.” He answers simply, returning his attention to the tv. “Not if I can help it.”_

-

“Alright everyone, great job! I am so proud of you!” Bokuto proudly collects all the answer sheets for his students’ last final. “It’s… It’s summer break.” He scans over his class. “I want all of you to have fun, and be safe, okay? No getting crazy, no swimming thirty minutes after you eat, if you plan on staying inside to play games, make sure you eat something.”

He looks at the tests in his hands, freezing up.

“It really is summer break.”

It’s quiet, his voice.

Like a calm realization lapping at his ankles.

The bell rings, and he looks up at the class, a grin spreading across his face, eyes wild with excitement.

“I hope to see you all when we return.”

-

Akaashi’s so nervous he can’t even drink his coffee. Washio opted to drink it instead, the brown owl mug borderline comical in his hands. Only thirty more minutes before he gets out of class, and then, he can just file some papers, and get home to Bokuto.

He can hardly wait, speeding through his notes.

“So this is when we start seeing an increase in support for queer identities-” He stops short, his eyes falling on a familiar face in the crowd. Bokuto gives him a small wave, and urges him to continue on. Akaashi can’t focus on his notes. “Koutarou you couldn’t just go home after work?”

Everyone follows his gaze to the man that’s sitting in the back row, gazing lovingly at their professor. Washio chuckles.

“Surprised you didn’t notice him earlier,” He speaks into the mug. “He’s been making hearts with his hands every time you mention gay marriage.”

Akaashi turns a soft shade of pink, Bokuto laughing as he holds up another heart.

“I don’t come to your job and distract your students.” Akaashi lets his arms hang by his side, his eyes intense behind his glasses.

“You should!” Bokuto calls out, smiling. “They’d love to meet you, especially after I told them the story of me getting stuck in a tree on Noya’s 100th birthday.”

Akaashi pinches his nose, but he isn’t upset. Instead, he smiles, and it’s not the usual small smile he gives the class. It’s warm, and it’s full, his eyes sparkling as he looks at this man. 

The man looks at him the same way.

“I know you’re excited to have a break from work, but some of us still have classes to teach. Just let me finish my lecture, okay?”

Bokuto blows him a kiss and Akaashi shakes his head, fumbling over his notecards. The lecture is over in ten minutes, when Akaashi catches Bokuto playing paper football in the back row with the other students, scolding him for distracting the class.

It’s refreshing, to see that even the most inhuman-seeming vampires still blossom with life when paired with the perfect human. Never would they have guessed that someone like Akaashi would fall so hard for someone so bubbly, so full of life.

Little do they know that his life is a flickering flame.

But it’s enough to convince a few of them that maybe, just maybe, having a vampire teacher isn’t the end of the world.

“Kou!” Akaashi hits him with his notecards. “You couldn’t have just waited for me?”

“I was nervous, and I thought that if I saw you, I’d feel better.”

Akaashi’s posture relaxes, and he takes Bokuto’s hand, rubbing it fondly with his thumb.

“I’m nervous, too, okay?”

“Is today the day?” Washio hands the empty travel mug back to Akaashi, who stuffs it into his bag, handing Washio the papers to be filed.

“Hopefully.” Bokuto puffs out his chest. “Today is the day I die.”

Akaashi’s mouth puckers, like he’s just bitten into a lemon. The taste is just as sour.

“Come on, Keiji.” 

Akaashi doesn’t budge, looking down at his feet with a frown.

“I can handle all the after class stuff, you should go,” Washio looks between Bokuto and Akaashi. “You have somewhere else to be.”

Akaashi just nods, eyes glazed over like they’re made of glass.

Bokuto doesn’t say anything, afraid that he’d break the moment he opened his mouth, knowing better than to assume that strong isn’t fragile.

-

Akaashi feared this moment, more than anything.

He’s been through many awful and painful things in his life, but nothing’s caused so much anxiety than now. Not when he was in tears, his very life being threatened the night he had been shot, his world constricting and suffocatingly _human_.

Not when he took his first breath of air, looking at his family with wide eyes, their faces returning the shock that they would later turn into disgust. 

Not when he was feeding on Bokuto for the first time, the feel of his soft flesh between his fangs borderline ecstasy. He took too much that night, but if Bokuto minded, he never showed it.

But now, as he swallows hard, sitting with Bokuto in a half-filled bathtub, the steam fogging up his brain, he realizes that nothing could be scarier.

He has to kill his husband.

“Maybe you should take another drink.” Akaashi lifts his wrist to his mouth, but Bokuto grabs it, pulling his arm down into the water with a splash. 

“I’ve had two already. I’m pretty sure there’s more vampire blood in my body than yours, now.”

Akaashi makes a small noise in the back of his throat. A pitiful rattle, really. Bokuto just puts his hands on Akaashi’s thighs, his hands churning waves. 

The water’s heat is dizzying, but that’s what it’s meant to do. Hopefully, Bokuto will pass out before he actually starts to feel anything. It doesn’t help Akaashi, however, and he has to bite his tongue to keep the nerves at bay.

“You’ve done this before,” Bokuto tries to calm him down. “This is just taking a little more than usual, okay? It’s just like going to sleep, yeah?”

Akaashi shakes his head. 

He’s never wished to know what death feels like, but right now, the idea of it being unknown scares him. He can’t reassure Bokuto, or prepare him for how much this might hurt.

Bokuto smiles up at him, his hair either sweaty or steamed, bits and pieces falling in his face, plastered to his forehead in strips of grey and black. He shakes his bangs out of his face, golden eyes staring up at him, expectant.

It’s times like this when Akaashi realizes just how full of life Bokuto is. How much he radiates warmth. How much everyone who’s ever had the pleasure of meeting him just gravitate towards him. 

And now he has to take it all away.

Will he still have that warmth? That blush across his cheeks when he tells Akaashi how beautiful he is? The glow in his eyes when he does his hair for work? 

Or will he just fully become one of the undead?

“Keiji, you’re overthinking this.” Bokuto’s hands trail up to Akaashi’s neck, pulling him down to press his lips against Akaashi’s forehead. “If we get through this, we never have to go through it again, okay?”

A pit grows. 

Living forever doesn’t really mean living _forever,_ but Akaashi can’t bring himself to think about the end.

Bokuto presses Akaashi against his skin, head in the crook of his neck, holding him close.

“Can’t leave a guy waiting, yeah?” He nervously laughs.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Akaashi whispers.

Bokuto squeezes him tighter.

“There’s other ways for me to die, if you don’t want to be the one. One trip down the stairs and-”

“No.” Akaashi pushes himself off of Bokuto, staring down at him. “I will not let you hurt yourself.”

It’s the most sure of anything he’s been all night.

He fans himself a bit, nodding to himself, mustering up the courage. He swallows thickly, and looks down at Bokuto, crimson pooling into his irises. 

“I can do this.” He speaks, but he isn’t sure if it’s more to Bokuto or himself. “I can do this.”

Bokuto’s smile turns fond, taking in the image before him. He breathes in. Once. Twice. He turns his head to the side, and Akaashi’s heart starts to thump, urge kicking in when he spots the veins popping out of Bokuto’s neck.

They’ve never looked so… full.

Akaashi sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes, his face tightening in the unpleasant way it always did when he held back tears. He hates crying, more than anything. Bokuto takes pride in being someone Akaashi can let it all out around.

To see such a human side to him.

Akaashi clenches his eyes shut in a final attempt to release the tension, fat red trails rolling down his cheeks as he stares down at his husband. His prey. His victim-to-be.

He dips his head down and lets out a breath along Bokuto’s collarbone, inching closer and closer to his neck, placing small kisses along the way. But this isn’t normal, and there’s no passion, no lust, no need or want. Bokuto makes himself more comfortable, and taps his hands on Akaashi’s back.

He’s ready.

Akaashi presses his right hand against Bokuto’s chest, his left reaching up to gently push his chin out, holding him in place. Bokuto can’t move, his heart half-screaming in Akaashi’s ears. The blood flow is heavier than usual, like it’s trying to escape from under his skin.

It’s deafening.

Akaashi presses his fangs into Bokuto’s skin, Bokuto making a small grunt that vibrates through his neck and into Akaashi’s skull. 

Akaashi’s never bitten this vein before, and for good reason.

A fountain starts gushing into Akaashi’s mouth as soon as he removes his fangs, so much that he barely has time to swallow before his mouth is full. He gulps, the liquid hot on his lips. 

It tastes like home. 

Akaashi takes another large gulp, Bokuto’s grip squeezing around him. 

“You okay?” He gasps for breath, red cascading down Bokuto’s chest. 

“Y-Yeah.” Bokuto breathes. It’s shaky. He never was a good liar.

Akaashi goes back in, letting the blood coat the skin around his mouth, feeling it drip down his chin. He lets out a soft moan, warmth filling his stomach, his veins. Like a piece of him that had been missing is finally returning to make him whole.

The bathwater is red, and the man in his arms is trying not to look. How much has he actually lost? A pint? A liter? How much longer?

And god, it just tastes _so good._

Akaashi’s gulps find their pace with the heartbeat, collecting the fountain spurts with his tongue. It’s more than he’s ever had, and his head is fuzzy. Full of want. The man can’t hold back the small whines in the back of his throat, his grip slipping off of Akaashi’s back.

Akaashi pulls away slowly, looking into his prey’s eyes, tongue tracing his lips. Half-lidded eyes stare back up at him, the blood flow spiking again. He bares his fangs a bit, his lips curling upwards, eyes hungrily moving back to the wound. 

There’s no hands on his back. 

He goes back to his prey’s neck, biting into another spot, the flesh more resistant. He sucks deeply, gulps turning into half-mouthfuls, which turn into him straining to gather enough to cover his tongue.

He licks his lips, licks the wound, trying to gather as much as he can on his fingers. He sucks his fingers clean, stomach burning with desire as he sits back in the bathtub, slick reddish-pink water clinging to his skin.

His first thought isn’t about his dead husband, or the blood still warm on his lips, or even enough to muster up the man’s name other than calling him prey. It’s about how the blood sits in his stomach.

God, he’s never felt so _full._

-

It’s the stillness that bothers Akaashi the most.

And the grey-tone to his skin.

And the way he just kind of… floats.

The water’s been long replaced, Akaashi using the detachable showerhead to rinse them both off, cleaning Bokuto’s wounds with thick red tears streaming down his face. He gently presses the washcloth to Bokuto’s skin, the wounds clean, no heartbeat able to push the remaining blood in his system out.

They aren’t too deep, though, not as deep as when Akaashi had bitten him. His face looks like a fake, some doll version of what he once was. He was pale before, but now he’s almost translucent, his lips ashen, eyelids peacefully closed.

Akaashi fears what his eyes look like the most.

He drains the water, drying himself off, stepping out, going around to Bokuto’s back to dry him off, too. The towel barely touches skin out of fear that he’ll break.

His skin is stiff, wound getting shallower and shallower. 

Was it like this when Akaashi died? Did the gunshot wound close up like this? 

He runs his fingers along the wound, Bokuto’s flesh still slightly warm. Akaashi frowns, the jagged holes protruding. They look so ugly, with unbroken teeth marks beneath them from where he has to anchor his bite. 

He strokes the bumps with his fingers, his stomach burning. It’s a pleasant burn, but that doesn’t stop something from bubbling up in the back of Akaashi’s throat. 

Guilt is a bitter thing.

He resumes drying Bokuto’s hair, cleaning off small strips of blood he missed. Akaashi takes in a shaky breath, reaching for the washcloth. The moment he touches it to skin, Bokuto’s foot twitches.

Akaashi stares. 

It doesn’t twitch again.

More bitter guilt.

Shaky breaths.

“Kou?” He whispers, looking down at Bokuto’s face, hand running through his slightly damp hair.

Bokuto’s body jerks, and he lurches forward, violently coughing. His body is shivering, his head whipping around the room before he twists his body around to find Akaashi.

Akaashi’s breath hitches.

_So this is a sire._

The last of Bokuto’s wounds close up, his mark fading into nothing. He meets Akaashi’s eyes, the prettiest shade of red Akaashi’s ever seen, like freshly cut summer roses. He blinks, bringing a hand up to his mouth.

He parts his pale lips, pressing the pad of his thumb to one of his fangs. 

“Kei-” He coughs again, his voice weak. He clears his throat and gulps. “Keiji?”

Akaashi can’t help but reach up, shaking palms pressing against Bokuto’s cheeks. Something on his lips twitch, and Bokuto stares up at him. A few tears fall freely from Akaashi’s eyes, and his face splits into relief. The biggest smile Bokuto’s seen him wear since the day they got married.

“You’re so beautiful, Kou.”

-

“It’s been three days, Keiji, when are you going to let me drink blood? At this rate I’m going to go back to being human!”

Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest, staring at Bokuto from across the kitchen table.

“I want you to understand the urge to drink.” He says simply, looking at the blood bag in his hands. He scrunches his face up, stomach still full. “I’m going to open this, and you’re going to go ten minutes without drinking it. If you can do that, I’ll let you drink it.”

Bokuto eyes the blood, his fangs itching.

“I can do it.” He nods, his throat dry. “I can go ten minutes and then some.”

“I want you to think of your students.” Akaashi holds the bag up. “Pretend this is your student.”

“That’s a bit morbid, isn’t it?”

Akaashi just purses his lips, and makes a small incision in the bag, pouring it into the mug on his left. Bokuto sucks in a breath, staring down the liquid with great intensity.

“This is your student.” Akaashi reminds him, slipping the empty bag into a small biohazard bag.

Bokuto’s fangs itch, his veins like sandpaper.

“That’s my student.” He repeats, his voice hoarse. 

The smell hits him after a bit. It’s not the smell he’s used to, no, not the sickeningly metallic scent that hangs heavy in the air and makes him gag. No, this is new, and this is dangerous. His lips curl back and he bares his fangs a bit. He shakes his head, covering his nose and mouth with his hand.

“It’s your student.” He mumbles again. “It’s all of your students.” He adds.

Akaashi stares down at the blood, then back to Bokuto. His eyes are angrily red. Bokuto hisses a little, and clenches his eyes shut, counting to one hundred.

“It’s mom.” He says to himself, his voice wavering. “It’s dad.”

Guilt pools in his stomach, his fangs begging for a shameful taste. How much time has passed? A few seconds? A minute? Nine minutes? 

His head goes fuzzy, his eyes never leaving the blood on the table. His breathing is staggered now, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles are white. He shamefully bares his fangs, legs bouncing restlessly, rationing his breaths as to not breathe in.

He reaches a hand out, then pulls it back, staring at Akaashi. Akaashi stares back, stone-faced.

His legs shake, his veins burning. He feels sweat start to form on his brow, and Akaashi cocks an eyebrow. With all of his strength, he stands up, staring at the blood, and then…

He walks away.

“Koutarou.” Akaashi calls after him.

“It’s my student.” Bokuto returns, sitting on the couch, legs pulled up against his chest. 

“It’s been twelve minutes.” Akaashi appears behind him, holding the mug out. 

Bokuto looks up at him with wide eyes, then down to the blood. Akaashi nods, pushing it a little bit closer. Bokuto takes it in his hands, and stares down.

“No going back now.” He whispers to himself, taking a sip.

Instantly, the burn is gone. His fangs itch for more, for something to bite down into. He moans at the taste, but he can barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing through his ears. 

It’s the breath of fresh air he’s been waiting for, and soon, the mug is empty.

When he comes to, Akaashi is sitting down on the couch next to him, their legs intertwined.

“I only lasted seven.” Akaashi props his head up on his elbow and watches him stick his fingers in the mug, sucking off every last drop.

“Hm?” Bokuto wearily asks, coming down from the high.

“When Iwaizumi and Oikawa made me do this when I first joined the clan, I only lasted seven minutes.”

Bokuto looks at him, mouth slightly agape. His mouth opens and closes around the words he’s trying to form. He looks down at the mug, and then rose eyes meet blue.

“You set me up to fail, didn’t you?” He accuses.

Akaashi doesn’t answer.


	4. Chapter 4

_”Koutarou, I want you to meet my clan.”_

_Akaashi gestures around the bar, pointing to the five other vampires in the room. It’s a small clan, and they work hard, according to what Akaashi tells him when he gets home from his shifts._

_“This is my marked human.” Akaashi introduces. “Bokuto Koutarou.”_

_The first to step forward is a muscular man, skin so tan you’d never believe he was dead. He shakes Bokuto’s hand, smiling._

_“Daichi.” He introduces. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”_

_“Maybe a little too much.” A tall brunet mumbles behind him, leaning on the bar. The vampire next to him karate chops his head, sending him crashing against the counter._

_“Forgive our leader, Oikawa, he’s a bit of a dick that hates marked humans.” The man scowls, saying the word leader like he might say the word sewage. “I’m Iwaizumi, and it is such a pleasure to finally meet you, Bokuto-san.”_

_“Just Bokuto is fine.” He smiles, Akaashi squeezing his hand. “It’s very nice to meet all of you. Thank you for taking care of my boyfriend.”_

_“We have you to thank for that.” Iwaizumi adds, smiling despite the firm grip he has on Oikawa, the tall man flailing, trying to get up. “It’s not everyday you see someone so happy to have a marked human.”_

_Bokuto’s heart thumps, and he looks at Akaashi, who sinks into his shoes. Bokuto can’t help but smile._

_“Speaking of which, Akaashi, how are your cravings?”_

_Akaashi’s head snaps up, his cheeks flushing pink. Bokuto furrows his brow._

_“What’s a cr-”_

_“Would you look at the time? Wow, we gotta go.” Akaashi pushes Bokuto out of the lounge, the other vampires snickering behind him._

-

“Okay, Kou, you ready?” Bokuto draws in a shaky breath, and nods. “Good, now Suga belongs to someone else, you can smell that, right?”

Bokuto looks at Suga, who is sitting in one of the semi-closed off areas. He sniffs the air, Oikawa’s scent lingering in the air, masking some of Suga’s human scent. Suga smells… not as good as the humans on the street when he’s been doing his daily practices. 

He nods. 

“He smells like Oikawa.”

“Yes, he does.” Akaashi breathes in. “Now, even though he’s marked, the taste of his blood won’t change much. This’ll be good practice for feeding, okay? And make sure to thank both him and Oikawa for letting you practice on him.”

“Oikawa’s not going to… you know… murder me for drinking from his human, right?”

Akaashi suppresses a laugh.

“No, and pretend that he isn’t marked, okay? Just because he’s temporarily exempt from death doesn’t mean you can treat him like a blood bag, okay?”

Bokuto nods, his eyes never leaving Suga. Suga gives a lazy wave as the two vampires enter the section, still dressed in pajamas. Anyone would be a fool to not notice that he’s been staying over almost every night.

“Thank you so much Suga.” Bokuto bows his head, biting his lip.

God, his fangs are already out. How embarrassing.

“No worries, Bokuto.” He waves him off, smiling. “I’m happy to help the clan.”

“Really,” Akaashi gives him a small nod. “Thank you for the help, we can’t thank you enough for agreeing to this.”

“I’ll be going through the same thing soon enough.” Suga whispers, blinking slowly. 

Akaashi decides it’s not best to ask what that means, but Bokuto doesn’t share the same courtesy.

“You mean you want to turn, too?”

“Well,” Suga scratches his neck. “Not now. But one day. I’m… thinking about it. Um, here.” He holds out his wrist.

Akaashi saves him, leading Bokuto over to the couch. 

“Okay, Kou, remember, this is your friend, okay? This is going to be very different from drinking a blood bag out of a mug. I want you to keep in mind that this is an actual human being.”

“Got it.” Bokuto nods.

Akaashi points to places on Suga’s wrists.

“Put your lips here and here,” Bokuto does so. “You can feel the blood flow there, right?”

“Mm.” Bokuto hums.

“Now put your lips here.” He points to the middle.

“It’s weaker.” Bokuto says.

“Yes.” Akaashi nods. “Always bite where it’s weaker. Never bite where the blood flow is this strong, that means there’s an artery, and there happens to be two in the wrist.”

Bokuto takes his time feeling the blood flow, practically kissing up Suga’s wrist. Suga laughs a bit, mumbling a small “that tickles”. Akaashi takes a seat next to Bokuto, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Fangs out?”

“Yeah.”

“Bite down into the weak spot. He might flinch in pain, so hold his wrist to keep it steady. The first gush might be a little surprising, but make sure not to pull back. You don’t want to waste anything and have to take more, yeah?”

Bokuto shakes his head.

“You ready, Suga?” Akaashi looks into Suga’s eyes, and Suga nods. “Okay, Kou, I’m here to help, but try to stop on your own.”

Bokuto nods, and finds the weak spot again. He bites, Suga wincing.

Akaashi can’t blame Suga. He’s a vampire’s first real feed, and it’s always messy. Oikawa has years of feeding under his belt, and the experience is probably something sensual, something easy, something that they barely think about anymore now that they know each other’s bodies.

This, however, is something messy, and quick. Suga lets out a pained gasp, clenching his teeth, Bokuto latching onto his wrist. Akaashi carefully monitors everything, from the way Suga is biting his lip, to the shudder of Bokuto’s shoulders.

His body is getting warmer.

Akaashi tightens his grip on Bokuto’s shoulder, and Bokuto pulls away, clearing his throat, licking his lips. 

“Thank you.” Bokuto whispers, like he’s trying not to breathe.

“I’ll heal you, Suga.” Akaashi offers, reaching his hand up to his mouth.

“Don’t bother.” Oikawa says, entering the room, reaching his free hand out. 

He takes Suga’s hand, licking the trails of blood from his skin, biting his lip and kissing the wound. The wound starts to heal, and his tongue swipes at the strip of blood, cleaning his human up. 

In his other hand, he offers a cookie.

“This is what humans eat after getting blood taken, right?” He asks, even though it looks like he already knows the answer. He takes a seat next to Suga, draping his arm around his shoulder. “I got the biggest one they had.”

“Awe, thank you, Tooru.” Suga smiles, looking at the bite that’s already been taken out of the cookie. “Did you already eat some?”

“Why do you think I got the biggest one they had?” He shrugs, reaching over and breaking off a piece, shoving it into his mouth.

Suga playfully flicks his nose, Oikawa wincing in pain.

“You must be okay if you can do that.”

“I’m a little dizzy.” Suga admits, leaning his head on Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa nuzzles into Suga’s hair, unable to hide the smile on his face. 

He looks up at Bokuto, his eyes possessively red.

“Hope you enjoyed it, because you’ll never get another taste.”

Suga scoffs.

“Unless you need it, I’ll be happy to offer for the clan, and more importantly, a friend.”

“Nooo,” Oikawa whines. “I want you all to myself.”

“You sound like a child, Tooru. Let’s not forget that if Bokuto ends up hurting someone because he isn’t well fed, you’d have to face Kuroo.”

The color drains from Oikawa’s face, and he pouts.

“Fine. But next time go to Kageyama.”

“He scares me.” Bokuto mumbles. 

“I think next week we’re going to try hunting.” Akaashi admits, sighing. “It’s been a month since I started feeding on blood bags, and gotta be honest, I really hate the taste.”

“Awe, do you miss my blood?” Bokuto’s eyes shine, flickering back to gold.

“I do.” Akaashi ruffles his hair.

“You know,” Oikawa starts. “Iwa-chan and I were talking to Kuroo, there’s a small clan that’s having issues growing and managing themselves, so we might be taking them in.”

“Really?” Suga beams. “That’s great!”

Oikawa nods, drawing small circles on Suga’s arm with his index finger.

“It’s a very young clan of five, but there’s only two vampires. There’s one marked human, and two unmarked. Apparently they were all friends that got into a massive car crash, and when vampire blood was administered, two of them died. What were their names?”

Oikawa scratches his chin, but shrugs.

“I think one of the vampires is named Yahaba, I can’t remember.”

“That’s good, though, to have more humans around.”

“Yeah, they seemed really excited to work under someone so old. I’m not that old, am I?”

“You just turned 328, right?”

“Yeah. That’s not old, is it?”

Suga chokes on his cookie, trying not to laugh.

“Suga, you didn’t answer me.” Oikawa pokes Suga’s cheek. “I’m not old, right?”

Suga doesn’t give him an answer, and shoves the rest of the cookie into Oikawa’s mouth.

-

Bokuto sits in the school’s meeting room, Akaashi, Konoha, Kuroo, Oikawa, and the board of directors all staring at him. He feels very small, and very exposed.

He sinks into his chair.

“I wasn’t expecting the pureblood overseeing Shinjuku to be so young.” The director looks at Kuroo, who smiles.

“Why thank you.” He takes the implied inadequacy as a compliment. It just makes it easier to impress people later on. “I’m very good at my job, and I take pride in being able to do it at such a young age.”

The director turns to look at Oikawa, who admittedly isn’t the most friendly-looking vampire out there, especially with his sickly sweet smile. The one he most likely learned from Suga. He quickly turns to look at Akaashi instead.

“You’re the vampire that turned him?”

“I am.” Akaashi nods.

“How would you describe Bokuto-sensei in terms of his recent… change.”

“He’s adjusted very well,” Akaashi folds his hands in front of him at the table. “Faster than we expected. Exceeded expectations set by our clan, all with the safety of his students in mind.”

Oikawa joins in.

“I’m his clan leader, and I would like to agree that Bokuto’s one of the most well adapted vampires I’ve seen,” He flashes a smile. “And I’ve seen a lot in my time.”

“Do you think it’s safe for him to be around students?”

Oikawa nods.

“I own a bar with lots of foot traffic, and Bokuto has been nothing if not patient around humans. I’m willing to bet my three centuries of existence that he may be one of the most disciplined vampires I have ever met, wouldn’t you agree, Kuroo-chan?”

Kuroo nods.

“He’s passed all of our tests earlier than we expected him to. He’s good with humans, he’s demonstrated impeccable control around blood, and has a strong will to leave when he feels unstable, which, there have only been two instances of, both more than two weeks ago.”

The director scratches his chin.

“So, can you say with absolute certainty that he is safe to resume teaching.”

Kuroo smiles, the image much more frightening than the smile he had given at the start of the meeting. He stares down the director, and in that instant, the director knows exactly why he’s a pureblood. 

This was no man. Never was.

“If I have any doubts, I’ll be sure to kill him myself, but I don’t think it will ever come to that, right Bokuto?”

Bokuto gulps, but nods. 

If the idea of hurting one of his students wasn’t enough, Kuroo’s face was enough to discourage him from so much as breathing in the direction of a human. Kuroo smiles, leaning back in his chair.

“Good. Then we have an understanding.”

-

Konoha slaps Bokuto’s back in reassurance.

“You sure you’re okay with leaving your class to a substitute just to look over me?”

“I think this is more important than me teaching a class for a few days. Might pop in to make sure everything is running smoothly, though.”

“You sure you’re sure.”

Konoha sticks his tongue out between his teeth.

“Yeah, of course, dude! Think of it as… a clan. Just you and me, the badass vampire teachers of Fukurodani Academy.”

Bokuto allows himself to laugh, nodding, gripping the thermos of blood in his hand. He takes a sip, the warmth still radiating on his tongue. According to Akaashi, he needs to drink it before lunch, or else it’ll get gross.

“You can’t be using that kind of language at school.”

Konoha shrugs.

“It’s not like the kids aren’t using it when they think no one’s listening. Oh the gossip you’ll hear with vampire ears.”

The first bell rings, and Konoha stares at him from across the desk, grabbing his attendance notebook and his laptop.

“See you after homeroom, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto nods, gathering his own things.

His nerves build up more and more as he nears his class, his heart pounding against his chest. He can hear his blood roaring in his ears, but it’s a welcome sound. 

It means he’s well fed. 

And his students are safe.

He opens the door, all eyes falling on him as the class president leads them in their bow. He offers a big smile, putting his things down on the podium, looking out over his students.

“Hey, hey! Welcome back, everyone!” It doesn’t take long for the front row to notice the small fangs poking out of his mouth. 

Nonthreatening, and they knew it. Just a small bump in his attempt to hide his true nature from them. Fangs that can’t break skin. They know that they’d probably never see the full ones, and they’re okay with that.

Small fangs, baby steps.

A great teacher, dedicated to his students.

“I hope you all had a great summer break, and boy do I have some new stories to tell.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Akaashi hasn’t left their room since the wedding. He’s curled up under the covers, face buried in his phone, obsessively checking the news. The pillow is bloodstained, much like Akaashi’s face._

_“Keiji, you know that I’m here for you, right?”_

_“They know, Kou.” Akaashi whimpers. “The whole world knows.”_

_“And that’s okay.”_

_“What if it isn’t? What if my students find out? What happens if someone tries to stake me?”_

_“You know that won’t kill you, Keiji.” Bokuto sighs, crawling into bed beside him. “I’d be there to pull it out of you and bring you back. I doubt they’d be up for cutting someone’s head off when they realize that’s one of the ways to actually get rid of you.”_

_Akaashi can’t stop crying._

_“That’s the thing, Kou,” He sobs. “What if they do take it that far? What if they do actually try that? Humans are terrifying monsters, Kou. I… I can’t go outside. And you? What if they find out you’re married to one?”_

_“If they have an issue with it, then that’s their problem.” Bokuto wipes the tears from Akaashi’s cheeks. “We don’t owe anyone shit.”_

_“I’m so scared, Kou.”_

_Akaashi’s the kind of person to cry with his entire body. His hands tremble, his shoulders shake. He leans into his sobs, and hiccups easily. Bokuto wouldn’t hesitate to sell his soul to make sure Akaashi never cries again._

_He pulls Akaashi close, not caring that there’s blood and snot dripping onto him. He shushes Akaashi, coddling him like a child._

_It’s been too long since Akaashi got to be anything other than an adult._

_“Whatever happens, I’ll be there, okay? We’ll take this on together.”_

-

“Keiji.” Bokuto singsongs, half crying. “They chose vampires as their theme for the cultural festival! Vampires! For me!”

“That’s great, dear.”

“Vampires, Keiji! They love me!”

“They do.”

“They’re making little bat decorations! We’re having an interview later! I get to tell them about everything!”

“Well, maybe not everything.”

“Of course not!” Bokuto laughs. “How in hell am I supposed to explain the time we had a threesome while feeding.”

Akaashi doesn’t respond, something he does when he’s embarrassed.

“Keiji? You went all quiet.” He innocently teases.

“You really have no shame, do you?”

“Nope.” Bokuto pops the ‘p’. “But I think it’s high time you come meet my students. Vampire themed café, we can’t miss it!”

He can almost hear Akaashi smile.

“I’d love to.”

-

The cultural festival is fast approaching, and soon, Akaashi finds himself being swept in the crowd that infests the Fukurodani courtyard. No one pays him much mind, but Akaashi feels wholly out of place. 

Not just because he’s surrounded by humans, but because he’s surrounded by teenagers and their family members, middle school students scouting out high schools, various other workers bustling around.

He only stops to check out the booth run by the history club, pushing his glasses up as he approaches the table.

“History club, huh?” He looks at the student manning it. “Are you third years?”

“I am!” She happily supplies, passing him a brochure. “Are you here to recruit students for something? Maybe a sibling that’s interested in joining?”

“Neither, actually,” He flips through the pages, the topics feeling like home. “I’m a history professor, though. It would be silly of me to not check this out and at least try to sway you into taking a class or two.”

“History professor?” She trails off, looking to the girl behind her. “Ami-chan, Bokuto-sensei’s husband is a history professor, too, right?”

Ami nods, and Akaashi offers a small smile. He really is popular, isn’t he? 

“I think so.”

“He is.” Akaashi pockets the brochure, flashing a smile with his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to know where his classroom is, would you?”

-

When Akaashi heard the words “vampire café”, he thought he knew what to expect. However, if the inside is anything like the outside, with plastic bats and red streamers, he’s in for something else entirely.

He can’t help but laugh a bit, a plastic bat hitting him in the face as he enters. A student wearing a cheap cape stands up straight, showing Akaashi to a free table.

The classroom is decorated in the most gaudy way, and there’s no way Bokuto didn’t have a hand in this. He looks around the room, taking in the decor before dropping his eyes to the menu. Everything is described as something blood related, bat related, or it involves the names of certain vampires that are leading peace protests in the news. 

It’s nice to know that it’s not _entirely_ campy.

“What can I get for you, Sir?”

Akaashi looks up at the student waiting his table, his eyes slightly nervous.

“Ah, I haven’t decided yet. I’m waiting for someone.”

“Take your time.”

The room doesn’t have very many customers, and Akaashi catches his reflection in the window. He really does stand out in the room, his skin pale, his presence commanding. Not too long ago, he would have passed as anemic, meek. Now, he just screams vampire.

The waiter comes back when Akaashi puts the menu down, and he orders bat shaped rice balls and two teas, which have been dyed pinkish red. The door opens, and Bokuto frantically enters, making a beeline for Akaashi’s table.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I walked by the history club’s booth and they told me you were already up in the class.”

He takes a seat across from Akaashi, Akaashi pushing the rice balls towards him. He scrunches up his nose at the thought of eating solid food. Akaashi pushes it towards him more forcefully.

“Support what your class made, you himbo. They probably spent a lot of time getting this together.”

Bokuto takes a bite, leaning on his elbow. He gestures around the room.

“Great, isn’t it?”

“A little… typical.”

“We’re studying Dracula for Halloween.”

“Of course you are.” Akaashi chuckles, sipping the tea, which stains his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the students whispering and pointing.

“I seem to be rather popular here, I wonder why that is.” 

“How can I not talk about the love of my life?” Bokuto smiles, his fangs peacefully poking out of his lips. “The minute you’re alone, they’re probably going to jump on you with questions.”

“I’ll just tell them about the time you tried to run the Vessel bar with only Hinata to help.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bokuto gasps, hitting him with a napkin.

“If they’ve heard anything embarrassing about me, I’ll be sure they have ammo when you start school next week.”

“You are a mean husband.” Bokuto whispers. 

By now, the students have mustered up enough courage to approach the table, the few students that are waiting other tables listening in.

“Ah, Keiji, these are the students that set everything up! Students, this is Akaashi.”

They look at him like he’s some sort of unicorn. A myth. Bokuto’s probably exaggerated him so much that in their eyes, he is a myth.

“You were right, Bokuto-sensei, his eyes do shift between blue and green.”

“Is it true that Bokuto-sensei got stuck in a tree and you had to get him and you also got stuck?”

“Is it true you work at that scary vampire bar downtown?”

“Oh come on now, don’t crowd him.”

“Yes they do, yes we both got stuck and then Bokuto sprained his ankle trying to jump into the arms of a 5’2 vampire, and it’s not really all that scary, the owner is just a giant crybaby that can’t do anything without his human. Any more questions?”

Akaashi smiles, and the students start excitedly firing them off.

Bokuto’s hair deflates the moment he realizes he’s been forgotten, left to eat the bat ball on his own, but Akaashi’s hand slips over his own, squeezing softly. He smiles and clasps their hands together, rings quietly clinking. 

He can’t help but almost shed a tear at the man before him. His vampire. His maker. His husband.

And he can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s found a forever home in Akaashi’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think from here on I might just do oneshots until I get enough time to write some other things I have planned for this series! There will be a break while I work on another fic I'm pouring my heart and soul into, but this is not the end of the Vessel Vampires series. Suga's still human, right? *eyes emoji*


End file.
